Brazil Nut Effect ~ Exploring the Glen Rose Limestone, Part 2

My first impression wasn’t wrong, it was just incomplete because I’d fallen victim to the Brazil nut effect.

In my previous post, I described the shells of Orbitolina texana, an agglutinated foraminifera, which appear in staggering numbers in a sample of material collected in Texas from the Glen Rose Limestone.  As far as I could see, this material, laid down in the Lower Cretaceous about 113 to 110 million years ago, consists almost completely of these foram shells.  For this present post, I took a closer look.

I washed the sample and then worked it through two sieves, creating two portions that differed by the size of their component pieces:  the first with anything larger than 1 mm, and the second with anything equal to, or smaller than, 1 mm and larger than 0.177 mm (177 microns).  I should add that any very large object, such as the example of a Salenia texana (a type of sea urchin) shown below, was removed in advance from the first portion.  (This fossil is about 2 cm across and stands about 1 cm tall.)

From each sieve, I shook material into tall envelopes secured with clips.  (In a prior post, I considered some aspect of the effects on microfossil searching of the mesh size of sieves.)

For this post, I’m not interested in that first portion (greater than 1 mm) which, under the microscope or with the naked eye, for that matter, basically confirms what one could learn just by looking at the ground where this material was collected  (the previous post includes a photograph of material in situ):  aside from some fairly poorly preserved larger invertebrate fossils, the matrix appears to be composed almost exclusively of Orbitolina texana shells

It’s when I began to search through the second portion (material between 0.177 mm and 1 mm in size) that things got interesting (well, at least, they did for me).

For awhile, what I shook from the second-portion envelope into the sorting tray seemed little different from what I’d seen in the first portion with the larger specimens.  There were many beautiful, albeit small, O. texana shells.  These, I believe, are from juveniles.  Scattered amid the O. texana shells were some fragments of sea urchin spines and pieces of urchin plates with tubercles (where spines were attached).

So, early in the process of working down through this second envelope, the picture of the Glen Rose Limestone at this location that I’d already formed was unchallenged.  I remained convinced that this fauna was thoroughly dominated by a single species of foram.

But, then, as the material from lower in the envelope tumbled into the sorting tray, my perspective changed, the picture became more complex.

There had been a more diverse population at this site than I’d imagined.  Fossil shells from ostracodes began to appear frequently, now dominating the sorting tray.  Equally impressive, these ostracode shells came from a rich array of species.  Pictured below are several examples of Eocytheropteran trinitiensis (first picture), Cythereis ornata (middle picture - note, the specimen at the top center is a carapace (i.e., having both valves) and is resting on its dorsal side), and Paracypris weatherfordensis (bottom picture).

Identification of these specimens is based on H.C. Vanderpool, Fossils From the Trinity Group (Lower Comanchean), Journal of Paleontology, Volume 2, Number 2, June, 1928, and Frederick M. Swain and Philip M. Brown, Cretaceous Ostracoda From Wells in the Southeastern United States, North Carolina Department of Conservation and Development, Bulletin Number 78, 1964 (this latter piece revises many of the ostracode name assigned by Vanderpool).  For these references and others in this post, I provide links only to publications that do not reside behind paywalls.

Vanderpool identified nine different species of ostracode that he found in the two Glen Rose locations he sampled.  He characterized five of these as "abundant."  Swain and Brown revised several of Vanderpool's identifications, including one in which they concluded he had considered adult and juvenile forms of one species as two separate ones.

This is an aside, but I have to note that, in light of what I've found in my Glen Rose sample, it's quite stunning to read Vanderpool's assessment of the microfauna in the environment in which the Trinity Group formations (which include the Glen Rose Limestone) were laid down.  It suggests the difficulty in basing such an assessment on merely a handful of sites (six in his case, two of which featured Glen Rose Limestone, or one in my case).  From what he found, he concluded that the near-shore environment of these locations posed such challenges that only "the more hardy forms" of microfauna could handle it, primary among them were, in his estimation, the ostracodes.  In contrast, foraminifera, he concluded, appeared only "sparingly."  Yes, I'll grant him that ostracodes do turn up in the Glen Rose in large numbers, but "sparingly" is not the adverb for the O. texana at the site of my sample.

Though I don’t know if most of the ostracodes I was finding co-existed with the hordes of O. texana forams, I suspect they did.  Somehow these ostracodes in the substrate earned their living while navigating around the O. texana.

As my sense of the Glen Rose microfauna changed (coming closer, perhaps, to the reality of this formation at this time and in this place), I realized that this modification in perspective tracked with how far down I’d gone into the container with that second portion of material.  Indeed, the material toward the bottom of this envelope was markedly smaller than that at the top.

And, so, the Brazil nut effect had come into play.

A good place to start is with breakfast.  Most mornings, my breakfast includes some Chex Granola Mix which I most enjoy when a new package is first opened.  It’s then that the big “honey nut clusters” and whole Chex squares tumble into my bowl.  Several mornings later, as I near the end of the bag, I’m down to bits of nuts, a bunch of oat and rice flakes, and fragments of Chex squares – not so enticing.  The view below, looking down into a newly opened package, shows the big stuff gathered at the top.

This particle segregation is popularly known as the Brazil nut effect because it is so evident in containers of mixed nuts where the Brazil nuts (or other large nuts) gather at the top.  (On occasion, it's been called the muesli effect.)  Rather than being some trivial, though interesting, topic, the Brazil nut effect is critical for a range of industries, such as food processing or pharmaceuticals, in which controlling how dry mixtures behave is important.  It’s also a key context within which microfossils are hunted.

This much-studied phenomenon continues to confound.  The original hypothesis was that, in containers with a mixture of objects (some larger than others), shaking causes the larger ones to percolate to the top.  (These larger objects are called intruders in the literature.)  Under this reasoning, it was assumed that, in a shaken container, spaces created beneath the intruders fill with smaller members of the mixture.  With more shaking, this filling process ultimately boosts the intruders to the top.   Once there, their sheer size precludes them shifting down.

However, further research concluded that, instead of percolation, convection is predominantly at work with an upwelling in the middle of the mixture (pulling up everything, not just the intruders) and a downwelling at the outer margins.  The problem for the intruders is that, once they’ve ridden the upwelling to the top, they get stuck; they’re just too big to descend with the margins.

Unfortunately, for my sense of clarity, the story doesn’t end there.  Apparently, same-sized light and heavy intruders can behave differently, challenging both the percolation and convection explanations.  In this reverse Brazil nut effect, the lighter intruders, unlike their same-sized heavier counterparts, can work their way down to the bottom of the container.  But, wait, there’s more.  Density and size of elements in the mixtures can interact in complex ways.  For instance, holding the density constant, a size threshold comes into play with those objects below it falling and those above rising.  If, instead, the size of intruders is held constant and density is allowed to vary, it appears that intruders at either extreme – high density or low density – will rise faster than those intruders whose density is between the extremes.  If that weren’t enough, it seems that the frequency of vibrations applied to the mixture makes a difference as does the ambient air pressure.

After penning a concise overview of the state of understanding of this phenomenon (and its counterpart), biomedical engineer Troy Shinbrot, who co-authored the paper that first identified the reverse Brazil nut effect, couldn’t resist this wonderful quotation, which he attributed to Mark Twain (The Brazil Nut Effect – In Reverse, Nature, Volume 429, May 27, 2004, p. 352-353):

 The researches of many commentators have already thrown much darkness on this subject, and it is probable that, if they continue, we shall soon know nothing at all about it.

Note [added later]:

I did test whether the Brazil nut effect was actually in effect with my portions of Glen Rose material, but these were a bit indirect.  I transferred some of the first portion (greater than 1 mm) material into a glass jar and gently shook it. Most of the largest pieces in the jar slowly gathered at the top.  I attempted to replicate what shaking might do to the second portion (between 0.177 mm and 1 mm) by adding a few slightly larger O. texana shells to material from that portion that I had already gone through in my hunt for microfossils.  (I simply could not bring myself to add back the ostracodes I had found and see if they ended up lower in the container.)  These larger O. texana shells, as expected, popped to the surface after only a few shakes.  Conclusive evidence?  No, but certainly supportive.


Addendum:  Dating the Glen Rose Limestone

As far as I can tell, the Glen Rose Limestone, part of the Trinity Group, dates from close to the end of the Aptian through much of the lower Albian Ages (from roughly 113 to about 106 million years).  The sample I’m working with probably is from the Lower Glen Rose (about 113 to 110 million years ago).  I crudely estimated these dates from Figure 1 in the paper by Ernest A. Mancini and Robert W. Scott, titled Sequence Stratigraphy of Comanchean Cretaceous Outcrop Strata of Northeast and South-Central Texas:  Implications for Enhanced Petroleum Exploration (Gulf Coast Association of Geological Societies Transactions, Volume 56, 2006, p. 541).  As for the idea that this material had to be from the Lower Glen Rose, I have relied on Raymond Douglass' assertion that O. texana is only found in that part of the Glen Rose (The Foraminiferal Genus Orbitolina in North America, U.S. Geological Survey, 1960, p. 6).

"That's Huge!" ~ Exploring the Glen Rose Limestone, Part 1

Home is where one starts from.  As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living.
                       ~ T.S. Eliot, East Coker, Four Quartets

This is an illustration of . . . something stored in a warehouse in Roswell, New Mexico, . . .  no, wait, it’s a schematic drawing of an Egyptian pyramid with a particularly complicated interior, . . . or, better still, this is a 1950s look at the future of apartment buildings.

Actually, it is a drawing showing the interior structures of a shell (also called a test) created roughly 100 million years ago by a foraminifera in the extinct genus Orbitolina.  Forams, those single-celled marine protists, have oozed their way across this blog several times (here is a link to one such instance).  They are amoeba-like organisms that live inside a shell, extending filaments of protoplasm (pseudopods) into their environments.  (The drawing of the shell interior is taken from Raymond C. Douglass’ The Foraminiferal Genus Orbitolina in North America, Geological Survey Professional Paper 333, U.S. Geological Survey, 1960, p. 19.)

All three of the off-the-wall possibilities suggested at the outset are, in some ways, at least partly true.

Alien life form?  As life forms, there’s something decidedly different about forams and their brethren in their separate Kingdom Protista, a much debated catch-all category.  Eukaryotes (organisms with nucleated cells) are divided into four kingdoms: Animalia, Plantae, Fungi, and Protista.  Paleontologist Steven Stanley called that last kingdom a “hodgepodge” (Earth System History, 2nd edition, 2005, p. 54) which it really is, containing many members that are less closely related to each other than to members of some of the other kingdoms.  Quite possibly, the protists should be divided into several separate kingdoms of organisms.  I do like how the University of California’s Museum of Paleontology puts it on its website, “We retain the word ‘protist’ as a convenient term to mean ‘eukaryote that isn't a plant, animal, or fungus.’”  Savor how strange that is.  A life form defined by what it’s not.

Egyptian pyramid?  There is an actual connection through the limestone used in pyramids' construction.

Foraminifers were first recorded in the literature in the 5th century B.C. by Herodotus, who noted the nummulites [a kind of foram] in the rocks of which the Egyptian pyramids were constructed, but not until nearly 2000 years later were they recognized as the being the fossil remains of organisms.  (Alfred R. Loeblich, Jr. and Helen Tappan, Treatise on Invertebrate Paleontology:  Part C, Protista 2, Volume 1, 1964, p. 55.)

Apartment building?  Yes, this shell was an abode and, though a single foram occupied much of the interior spaces of the chambers, each of which was added as the organism grew older and larger, members of the Orbitolinidae family of forams are believed to have shared their tests with algae in a symbiotic relationship, the algae residing in the shell’s marginal rim.  (Gianluca Frijia, et al., An Extraordinary Single-Celled Architect:  A Multi-Technique Study of the Agglutinated Shell of the Larger Foraminifer Mesorbitolina From the Lower Cretaceous of South Italy, Marine Micropaleontology, Vol. 90-91, 2012.)

My first encounter with foraminifera of the genus Orbitolina was through the gift from a friend of a sample of matrix from the Glen Rose limestone formation in Texas.  This formation, famous for dinosaur tracks (subject of a previous post on this blog), dates from the Lower Cretaceous Period and is one of several stratigraphic units that constitute the Trinity Group.  According to Loeblich and Tappan, the extinct Orbitolinidae family lived from the Lower Cretaceous into the Eocene Epoch, while Orbitolina genus was confined to the Cretaceous.  The Glen Rose limestone was built up during the Cretaceous in a warm, shallow sea, an environment probably similar to that in which the extant large foraminifera are currently found.  (Raymond C. Douglass, Revision of the Family Orbitolinidae, Micropaleontology, Vol. 6, No. 3, July 1960.)

My sample was collected from an eroded hillside across the street from the house where my friend’s sister lives and, as luck would have it (we should all be so lucky), the Glen Rose outcrops there.

The following picture captures the most amazing aspect of this exposure, but it takes a close look to see it.

Yes, the picture above shows the internal mold of a gastropod (top arrow) and an echinoid (sea urchin), probably Heteraster (Enallaster) obliquatus (bottom arrow).  But, if one studies the background of this image, it may come clear that the surface’s not just littered with a few gray disks, it’s awash in them.  And that’s huge, because each of those disks is the fossil shell of an Orbitolina texana foraminifera.  Three of these specimens are pictured below.  In each picture, the same specimen is presented in views of the dorsal (top) side, edge, and ventral (bottom) side.  To help with orientation, the dorsal side is identified in each edge view.

Diameters of these specimens are:  approximately 9 mm for the top specimen, slightly less than 8 mm for the middle one, and under 5 mm for the bottom one.  To get the specimens to lie flat, I photographed each on clay which, with my failure to smooth things over for each shot, sacrificed a uniform background.  Think of it as similar to sitting in the front row of a movie theater watching a Wallace and Gromit movie, which I once did.  Finger prints and other impressions in the clay do show up.

In terms of identification, I’ve concluded that these particular forams from the Glen Rose limestone are O. texana based on their general morphology and where they were found (they are the hallmark of the lower sections of the Glen Rose limestone), believing that the differences in size and shape apparent in the pictures of these three specimens reflect natural variation in the species (due, for example, to age or stage in the reproductive cycle).  I do have to point out that conclusive identification of Orbitolina species rests on a much closer analysis of foram specimens, including cutting through specimens to expose differences in the structure of the chambers inside the shells.

As is evident by the labels on these pictures, I have thrown in with school of thought whose members believe these large disk-shaped forams oriented themselves in the substrate on the sea bottom with their convex side up (labeled dorsal in these images).  More on the structure of these shells in a moment.

The sheer abundance of these forams in this exposure is almost beyond my comprehension.  Such dominated carbonate sediments are sometimes referred to as Orbitolina facies because the characteristics of the rock formation, including the presence of the forams, may reflect particular, localized environmental conditions.  (Lorenzo Vilas, et al., Orbitolina Episodes in Carbonate Platform Evolution:  The Early Aptian Model from SE Spain, Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatolgy, Palaeoecology, Vol. 119, Issues 1-2, December 1995.)  Frankly, this was the first time I’d worked with so-called microfossils where, if one or two bounced out of my picking tray and disappeared into the detritus on the floor, I didn’t curse and feel my heart skip a beat.  I just have too many of them.

Of course, escapees from the picking tray were relatively easy to recover since many of them challenge my operating definition of microfossils – microfossils, I would argue, require the use of some form of magnification for the full range of their analysis.  For true microfossils, my tools include fine brushes; instead, with the larger versions of these O. texana, tweezers frequently come into play.  Douglass called O. texana “medium sized” which, at first, really threw me, since every one of them is, to me, decidedly “jumbo-sized” when compared to typical microfossils falling in the 0.5 mm and below range.  Still, Douglass was right in his characterization since another Orbitolina species, O. concava, had a diameter of some 30 mm, a size that merits a label of “large.”

This leads me to consideration of the incredible complexity of the internal structures of these shells, complexity which belies the simplicity of the organisms that created them.  I use that word – created – advisedly, because the Orbitolina were agglutinated foraminifera, that is, they didn’t just secrete material to fashion their shells, they, as with all other agglutinated forams, actually had a “hand” (well, pseudopod composed of their protoplasm, given the organism’s amoeba-like reality) in selecting and gathering the materials from their environment which they cemented together to build their homes.  (Agglutinated forams are the subject of a previous post.)

Orbitolina exhibited a uniserial arrangements of its chambers, that is, connected chambers were added one on top of the other as the organism outgrew its old chambers.  That’s extremely hard to visualize from the illustration and photographs presented above.  Think of the chambers as a stack of something like pancakes being pinched and lifted in the middle.  The height of each chamber (pancake) is narrow at the center, expanding as one moves away from that center point.  In the crude drawing below, I tried to capture this uniserial arrangement.  It is based on illustrations in Douglass, The Foraminiferal Genus Orbitolina in North America, and Frijia et al., An Extraordinary Single-Celled Architect.

The apex of the shell is the embryonic apparatus – the initial structure containing the organism.  Given how complex the sexual life cycle of these and most other foraminifera was, and is, (involving sexual and asexual reproductive phases), I will gloss over the embryonic apparatus and its influence on the development of the foram.

Each chamber added to the shell was composed of three different zones.

The central complex was the area of each chamber under the embryonic apparatus and was, as Douglass described it, “relatively unorganized.”  Over time, the central complex typically became somewhat filled with debris and, apparently, not much of the foram’s protoplasm occupied that area given space limitation.

The radial zone, adjacent to the center complex, was subdivided into many passages by partitions that ran outward from the central complex, initially in a weaving pattern that became straighter as they reached the outer rim of the chamber.  The organism lived primarily in the radial zone.

On the rim, the marginal zone featured many horizontal and vertical partitions, including the partitions coming from the radial zone.  These various partitions created small “chamberlets.”

(For this description of the internal organization of the Orbitolina chambers, I have relied primarily on Douglass’ The Foraminiferal Genus Orbitolina in North America, and the article by Gianluca Frijia and colleagues, An Extraordinary Single-Celled Architect.)

Recent analysis suggests that these forams selected grains of material from the environment to incorporate in their shells based on shape, not on size.  And such “foreign” material was used in some parts of the chamber, but not others.  (See Frijia et al.)

I’m intrigued by the implications of the complexity of the Orbitolina shell.  Presumably members of this genus had to be long-lived, simply because it would have required a lot of time to build a structure of this size and complexity.  Regarding the related Palorbitolina lenticularis, Lorenzo Vilas and his colleagues posited that its large size suggested a lifespan of one to two years.  (Vilas, et al., Orbitolina Episodes in Carbonate Platform Evolution.)  Beyond the time needed to create the shell, one has to wonder what evolutionary advantages might have accrued from such characteristics as the sheer size of the members of the genus, the warren of passageways and rooms dividing up each chamber, and the mixture of secreted and “foreign” materials used in their construction.  I have ideas but no answers and, so far, haven’t found much discussion in the literature (with the exception of Frijia's article and he ultimately throws up his hands).  So, I’m left appreciating a very strange and complex home.

There’s another issue that puzzles me.  If this concentration of Orbitolina texana in the exposure reflects the actual faunal diversity at this location in the Early Cretaceous (and I don’t have reason to think it’s some artifact of post-mortem change in the environment), why was there such a concentration of this foram species in the first place, and what might it have meant for other potential substrate dwellers, like ostracodes (microscopic crustaceans)?  Perhaps the first step is to see what other microfossils show up this material.  (Consider this a segue to another post – in essence, it’s that ever-offensive “to be continued” message.)